


wild

by haleinskibro



Series: Blue Neighbourhood [1]
Category: Blue Neighbourhood | Wild - Troye Sivan (Music Videos), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bad peter, Based on a Music Video, Childhood Friends, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are Childhood Friends, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inspired by Music, Kid Fic, Like he is in a really bad mindset, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Peter is not the greatest, Young Love, bc Stiles and Derek love each other, that makes him a bad person so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleinskibro/pseuds/haleinskibro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shh," Stiles whispered into Derek's ear as he rubbed his back to calm him more. "It'll be okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay."  Stiles pulled back far enough to look at Derek's face. He still wasn't okay, still wasn't the Derek that Stiles knows and cherishes and <em>loves</em> but, he was better than the tired, depressed, and worn being Stiles saw when he first stepped into the room. </p><p>“I love you,” Derek barely whispered into the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I love you so much it hurts.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. too long to the weekend

**Author's Note:**

> The whole idea for this story (and the idea for the series) is based off of the series of videos put out by Troye Sivan for his songs "WILD", "FOOLS", and "TALK ME DOWN". I recommend watching those videos not because you need to see them to understand what is happening in this story but because they're fantastic videos and amazing songs and everyone should love Troye. 
> 
> THERE'S A PLAYLIST FOR THIS (and the series as a whole) [HERE](http://8tracks.com/mythoesoul/blue-neighbourhood) let me know what other songs you think i should add yo.
> 
> (let it be known that this work isn't perfect, when I write it, I tend to skim over it with my friends to make sure there aren't any glaringly obvious mistakes so I know I need to go back and throughly edit this. And I will, so don't worry. Enjoy :) )

Stiles raced Derek to the huge tree in his backyard on his bike, peddling as fast as his nine year old feet would allow.

Obviously he lost because Derek is Derek, but he didn't really mind. By the time Stiles made it to the tree, Derek was already climbing his way up it, swinging from a branch and screaming at the top of his lungs. Stiles followed him up, sitting on a branch, _their_ branch, and mimicked Derek's shouts at the air.

After a while they just sat there in silence and togetherness, feet dangling over the branch and swaying in the air. It was calming for Stiles, just being around Derek. He provided a sense of comfort, of calm and serenity and love, different from his parents. Something that was uniquely Derek, for Stiles.

"Derek," Stiles said in a voice so small it was a shock Derek even heard him to begin with.

Derek turned to look at him and made a noise of acknowledgment, waiting for Stiles to complete what he's saying.

"Thanks for being my friend," Stiles said, looking up at Derek through his lashes, a sad look on his face.

No one really liked Stiles for some reason or another. They thought he was too loud or too hyper or too annoying or whatever other dumb reasoning they had to justify their dislike for him on that particular day. And Derek hated it, hated how pretentious and stuck up and outright _annoying_ the kids at school were when it came to how Stiles was as a person.

Derek knew that at times, Stiles could be annoying, with his nonsense information and constant babbling and general fidgeting but, underneath all of that, he was a good kid. One who took life seriously, sometimes way too seriously for a nine year old, when need be, and who loved everyone in his life as fiercely as physically possible. And he was Derek's friend, his best friend.

Derek looked at Stiles fully and smiled a tad. "You don't have to thank me for being your friend." He bumped his shoulder with Stiles', resulting in a smile from the other boy and a shoulder bump in return. "I enjoy being your friend. You're awesome to have around."

Stiles looked at Derek straight on, an unreadable look on his face before he dove into Derek. Arms wound tightly around Derek's shoulders and his face tucked firm against Derek's chest. "I love you." Stiles says, muffled against Derek's chest.

Shocked at the sudden outburst of affection, it took Derek a second before he returned the hug, but soon his arms engulfed Stiles and drew him closer to his chest.

"I love you too Stiles."

 

***

 

 _Stiles knocked softly on Derek's bedroom door before opening it slightly and poking his head through. There Derek was, sitting on his bed, legs folded beneath him, a look so distraught and hurt and_ sad _that Stiles instantly went to his side and pulled him into his arms. Derek immediately melted into Stiles' touch and grabbed at him, pulling Stiles closer to his chest like he's his lifeline and Derek is a man drowning at sea._

_Stiles was muttering nonsense to Derek, anything he could to try and calm him down and get him to talk about what happened, about what made him call Stiles in a panic asking him to get to his house as soon as he possibly could._

_"Shh," Stiles whispered into Derek's ear as he rubbed his back to calm him more. "It'll be okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay."  Stiles pulled back far enough to look at Derek's face. He still wasn't okay, still wasn't the Derek that Stiles knows and cherishes and_ loves but, he was better than the tired, depressed, and worn being Stiles saw when he first stepped into the room.

_Stiles repositioned them so he was sitting in Derek's lap with their heads on each other's shoulders, arms still around each other, holding on tightly in fear that the other person would leave or disappear._

_Stiles gets lost in the motions of soothing Derek, zones out as his hands make the repeated motions of stroking his back that he almost missed it, almost missed those three words that's left Derek's mouth._

_“I love you,” Derek barely whispered into the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I love you so much it hurts.”_

 

_***_

 

Getting restless, Stiles hopped off of the tree branch and onto the ground in a crouch, Derek not far behind him.

“It’s getting late,” Stiles starts. “I should get home so my dad doesn’t freak.”

Derek nods understanding and goes to get his and Stiles’ bikes from near the tree. Stiles takes his bike back and begins to walk, Derek falling into step next to him as he always does. It’s quiet, the walk, something that should be uncomfortable with rambled words and fillers but not with Derek. Never with Derek. With Derek, life and everything that came with it, was calm and peaceful, something Stiles truly enjoyed and cherished because there was nothing calm about him. He was frantic movements and frenzied speech with flailing limbs and a brain that doesn’t know how to shut down.

Derek was calming breaths and calculated movements. He never said anything unless he meant it, more mature than someone their age had any right to be. But together, they worked to balance one another, taking bits and pieces from each other, blending so well together it’s unclear where one of them begins and the other ends.

Derek looks over at Stiles and quirks an eyebrow. “Race you to the road?”

Stiles smiles and begins to run with his bike, trying to move faster than Derek through the sticks and leaves littering the ground, and not doing that good of a job. Derek is keeping pace with Stiles, laughing as Stiles makes a noise of disbelief and tries to move faster and get farther ahead but fails.

They both make it to the road at the same time, trading breathy laughs with each other. When Stiles begins to mount his bike, Derek follows his lead. “I’ll ride with you home, it’s no big deal.” Stiles nods and begins to bike home, Derek on his left. Again, they don’t talk and it’s not some horribly uncomfortable thing that needs to be changed.

They get to Stiles’ house not long after, both of them standing still, not wanting to leave and be alone. Shifting awkwardly, Stiles begins to move towards his garage door, his goodbye to Derek on the tip of his lips, when Derek speaks first.

“You should come over my house tomorrow,” he says rapidly. “My uncle just got me this really cool game for my GameCube if you want to test it out with me. It’s Crash Bandicoot.” Derek looks down at the ground, feet moving nervously as he waits for Stiles’ answer.

As if Stiles would say anything other than yes.

“That sounds so cool!” Stiles exclaims. “I’ve tried to get my dad to get me that game since it came out! What time should I be over?” He asks, excitement running through his veins.

Derek looks at Stiles with a small smile on his face. “Come over whenever, I really don’t mind. My uncle may be around, though.” With that being said, Derek starts to look anywhere but Stiles.

Peter Hale is an alcoholic who usually can’t tell what day of the week it is, let alone what his nephew is up to ninety percent of the time. But he was the last piece of family Derek had left and he loved him, flaws and all.

“That’s fine,” Stiles said, smiling still. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, smiling at him again. “Tomorrow.”

Stiles moves towards his door, leaving his bike perched against the wall in the garage before running up into the house and to the window near the front door, watching as Derek makes his way to the street to start biking home. As he gets to the street corner, he turns and looks at Stiles in the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo....whatcha think??? don't be afraid to comment or subscribe or give kudos or anything of the like. it really means a lot to me and like it'll seriously motivate me, let me tell you. 
> 
> thanks for read, it means a lot. xx


	2. too long till i drown in your hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight momma Stilinski feels up in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to make it clear when I uploaded the first chapter because I am a dolt but, when reading this story, the italicised text is the "present day" conversation and interaction between Stiles and Derek while the normal text is the "past day" conversation and interaction between Stiles and Derek.  
> A similar idea will occur in the second story of this series as well but I'll try and make sure I explain it and not forget.  
> I hope that makes sense and if you have any questions, drop a comment and I'll answer as best I can. :)
> 
>  
> 
> **next update: 11 February, 2016**

_ “Don’t let go,” Derek clings closer to Stiles, holds him so tight he’s pretty sure he’s going to bruise. “Just, please don’t let go.”  _

_ Stiles’ heart breaks, shatters into millions of pieces at the pain and hurt and sorrow in Derek’s voice. Derek is hurting and that hurts Stiles because he can’t help, doesn’t know how to even begin to fix that pain that Derek is going through. _

_ “It’ll be okay,” Stiles assured, even if he didn’t know what exactly  _ it  _ was. “Whatever is going on right now, it will be okay. I will make sure it is okay.” _

_ Derek didn’t answer, just snuffled closer into Stiles’ neck. And Stiles just held him closer, kissed him longer, stayed with him forever. _

 

_ *** _

 

Derek was sitting on his front porch when Stiles finally made his way to his house, out of breath from biking so fast. Quickly, Stiles jumps off his bike and runs up to the porch, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Hey Derek!” He exclaims, full of excitable energy like always. And Derek smiles because it’s hard not to when he’s friends with Stiles, who smiles about as much as he talks, and always has a way to make everything better.

“Hey Stiles.” Derek gets up from his spot on the porch and walks a little ways towards Stiles, a small smile on his face. He begins to walk away from his house, towards the back of his house where the junkyard is.

“Come on,” he says, motioning for Stiles to follow him away from the house.”

“Why are we going away from the house?” Stiles questioned but followed Derek nonetheless. “I thought the whole point of me coming over was to be  _ in _ the house. You know, where the video games and television and air conditioning are?”

Derek just stared at Stiles, trying to decipher the spiel of words that just left his mouth.

“So, do you not want to hang out with me or something?” Derek asked, knowing that wasn’t the case, but enjoyed playing with Stiles anyway.

Stiles sputtered, shocked that Derek would even say that. “Dude of course I want to hang out with you!” Stiles looked genuinely offended by Derek’s words. “I just thought we were going to play video games. I was ready to kick your butt in Crash Bandicoot.” He kicked a rock that was in front of him, sending it a few feet away. Stiles suddenly looked up at Derek, a bright smile on his face. “But hey, wandering around and messing with the cool stuff in your backyard seems fun too. Let’s go!” He runs towards Derek, grabs his wrist, and pulls him towards the junkyard in Derek’s backyard.

Derek follows reluctantly at first, only running because of Stiles’ hand on his wrist. Eventually he breaks free of his hold, barrelling towards the empty boats and trailers littering the backyard. Stiles lets out a laugh, running faster to catch up to Derek and his headstart. Derek turns a corner and runs faster, breath leaving his mouth like airy gasps as he tries to suck in enough oxygen to make up for his running and his laughter.

Stiles catches up to him, tackling Derek into the ground, laughing they both fall down hard. Stiles is still laughing as Derek tries to overpower him, tickling his sides to try and get Stiles off of him.

“I give!” Stiles shouts, laughter making his words breathy and light. “I give, I Give! Stop tickling me!” Stiles tries to put his arms over his sides, saving his tickle spots from Derek’s relentless fingers, but it’s no use as Derek moves under his arms and tickles more and doesn’t stop until Stiles topples over onto the ground. He’s laughing so hard now, no noise is leaving his mouth and tears are coming from his eyes.

“You give,” Derek says, fingers still tickling Stiles because he can. “Is that what you said? You give?” He places his hands on either side of Stiles’ head, panting and trying to catch his breath as he waits from an answer.

“Yes I give! No more, please dear lord, no more.” Stiles practically screams the words in Derek’s face, but he doesn’t mind. Laughing, he acts like he’s going in for one more tickle before standing up over Stiles, a hand outstretched to help him up as well.

Stiles glared at Derek before taking the offered hand and pulling himself up to his feet. Brushing the dirt and leaves off of him, he looks at Derek under his lashes and says, “That was rude, you know.”

Derek just shrugs, smirking at Stiles before he walks away and tries to find something to play with in the junkyard. Stiles follows behind him, gazing at the assortment of abandoned boats and loan scrap metal like he’s never seen anything quite like it.

Stiles eventually finds an appealing enough pile of junk, going over to it and searching through it, looking for everything and nothing at the same time. Derek just stands and watches, amused at Stiles’ enthusiasm and happiness as he always is.

Stiles reappears victoriously from the pile of junk with a smug smile on his face as he holds something in front of Derek’s face. It’s a soccer ball.

“Okay it’s a soccer ball,” Derek says, looking at Stiles confused. “So what?”

“It’s a  _ working _ soccer ball, you idiot.” Stiles tells Derek. “It’s a perfectly fine ball and it’s in a ball of junk. So we’re gonna play with it.” He manages to pull himself out of the pile towards a relatively empty lot and places the ball on the ground. “Come on Derek.” Stiles motions for Derek to come closer and he eventually does.

He gets extremely close to Stiles, eyes never leaving his, when he quickly hooks his foot to pull the ball towards him and away from Stiles. He dribbles the ball around the clearing, playing keep away from Stiles. With his eyes trained on the ball, Derek kicks it, moves himself around the boy to get possession of the ball again, and launches it towards two wooden planks that are against a sheet of metal, his goal.

Stiles tries to stop the ball at the last minute but misses and ends up on his back with his leg bent. Derek is jumping around cheering, arms in the air. He moves over to where Stiles is on the ground and jumps around in celebration some more.

Stiles, being the sore loser he is, clips Derek around the ankles while he’s jumping around, making the other boy to fall onto his back beside Stiles.

Derek groans and rolls onto his side to glare at Stiles, who is currently in stitches laughing at the situation. “Ow.” Derek says, voice flat with annoyance.

Stiles looks at Derek and then starts laughing all over again at the look on his face. “I’m sorry,” Stiles begins, laughter interrupting his speech. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but I just had to oh my god.” Stiles heaves himself up so he’s on his elbows looking at Derek. “I’m sorry.” Stiles says again, voice free of any laughter and face somewhat serious.

Derek’s face softens from its glare and he looks at Stiles. “It’s cool.” Derek raises to his feet, pulling Stiles with him and not letting go of his hand when they’re both finally standing. “Come on, let’s go back to my house. I have a video game to beat you at.”

Stiles begins to protest as Derek pulls them back towards the house, saying how Derek is the one who is going to lose because he obviously isn’t a master at video games like Stiles is.

 

***

 

_ “Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Stiles asks softly, fingers slowly running through the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. He isn’t sure if the other boy is even awake at the moment, but he needs to put these words out into the open. They need to be said, even if they aren’t heard. “It was right here, on this bed, and we were like eight or something, and you just leaned over and kissed me.” There’s a small smile working its way onto Stiles’ lips as he remembers the moment. “I still haven’t forgotten the way your lips felt on mine. I haven't forgotten how, in that moment, I knew I would love you, and only you, for the rest of my life.” _

_ “My mom figured it out before I did, you know.” Stiles keeps talk to Derek, fingers still running through this soft hair at his neck. “She said she knew that I would end up with you, she hoped I would end up with you. Apparently I looked at you with the same amazement and wonder I looked at Spider-Man whenever I would watch the cartoons. Which, in case you couldn’t figure out, means you’re the apple of my eye, the reason my heart continues to beat, blah blah blah. Which, you are, if that wasn’t clear.” Stiles shifts a little bit, bringing Derek closer to him. “You are the apple of my eye, no matter how corny that sounds. Like, you keep me grounded. You give me hope for the future. You make everything worth it.” _

_ Stiles looks down to where his hand is wrapped around Derek’s waist, where it’s rubbing against the exposed skin of his hip and back. He thinks about how he grew in love with the boy in his arms. How it just seemed natural and right from the very start. How they fit together so well that even his mom saw it coming before it happened, saw the love between them bloom and blossom like a flower in the spring. Even when she was in the hospital, looking nothing like the mother he grew up with, pale and hardly there, she told him to hold Derek close, to cherish and keep him as long as he could. So that’s what he’s doing, and what he is going to do until he can’t any longer. _

_ “My mom would have loved to see how far we came Derek. She knew you were perfect for me.” Stiles closes his eyes as the tears begin to fall, the hand on Derek’s neck falling to grip onto his other hip. _

 

_ *** _

 

Derek and Stiles are in Derek’s room when his uncle Peter finally appears and asks what they’re doing.

“Hey uncle Peter,” Derek says, tilting his body the same way as the game controller as if it will help in some sort of way. “We’re playing that new game you got me.” Derek made a noise under his breath as he fell off a platform, causing him to start the level over again. He hands the controller to Stiles and turns to his uncle. “What’s up?”

Peter stumbles into Derek’s room, smelling of whiskey and day old cigarette smoke. He lands down next to Stiles, who is trying his hardest not to cringe away from the strong smell of alcohol rolling off of Peter in waves, and focus on the game.

“I’m just checking on you kids,” Peter pauses to hiccup. “Gotta make sure you aren’t up to any, uh, trouble. Can’t have that now can we?” Peter looks at Stiles when he asks the question, like his answer is the only one that matters.

“No sir,” Stiles says with as much power in his voice as he can. “ Can’t have any trouble.”

Peter nods his head and smiles a tad, apparently satisfied with Stiles’ answer. “That’s right kid.” He slaps Stiles on the back, the force rocking him forward a bit, but he rights himself instantly.

“Are you staying for dinner Stiles?” Peter asks as he tries to stand up from the bed without toppling over. Once he rights himself, he looks at Stiles again, waiting for an answer.

“Uh,” Stiles falls off a platform in the game and groans loudly, reluctantly handing the controller to Derek so he could play. “No, I’m not. My dad said he’d come get me after he got off work.” He turns back towards the television to watch Derek almost falling to his death.

Peter nods again and begins to walk out of the room. “Okay then. You boys have fun. Stiles, I’ll come get you when your dad gets here.”

Stiles makes a noise of affirmation, more absorbed into the game than Derek’s creepy uncle Peter.

*

Stiles and Derek play video games until Stiles’ dad arrives and breaks up their game time. 

There’s a knock on the door before Stiles’ dad walks in and leans against the door frame. He looks at Stiles and Derek playing with a smile on his face.

“Hey kiddo,” he says, grabbing Stiles’ attention instantly.

“Hey dad!” He jumps up off the bed and into his dad’s arms. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much kid.” He rubs his hand over Stiles’ buzzcut. He looks up and sees Derek watching the interaction. “Hey Derek, how are you?”

“I’m good sir,” Derek looks away from the Sheriff, a sheepish look on his face. “How are you?”

Stiles’ dad nods his head absentmindedly. “I’m good son, I’m good.” He focuses on Derek again, a grin on his face. “Well, it seems like I’m going to have to take Stiles away from you for now I hope that isn’t a problem?”

“No sir, no. Of course not.”

“Okay then. Hey, why don’t you walk with us out, I have to talk to your uncle anyway.”

Derek gets to his feet quickly and follows them out of his room, towards the front yard where his uncle is nursing a beer.

“Peter,” the sheriff starts, clapping a hand on the other man’s shoulder as they talk. “Thanks for letting my boy hang here today. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”

Peter turns so he can look at the Sheriff in the face, the hand still on his shoulder. “Oh, it was no problem at all! He’s a delight really, hardly noticed the two of them were around.”

“Good good well, thanks again.” He turns and motions for Stiles to come on, to get into the car. “Oh, before I forget,” the sheriff turns back towards Peter and Derek. “We’re going to Winston Beach tomorrow with Melissa and Scott, you two should come, it would be nice to get together again.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice actually. We’ll be there.” Peter answers.

“Good. See you tomorrow. 4 o’clock.” The Sheriff turns back around and walks to his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @mythoesoul  
> tumblr: mythoesoul.tumblr.com
> 
> come talk to me anytime. I'm also still looking for a beta so if you'e interested, let me know! :)


	3. too long since i've been a fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is slightly un-beta'd towards the end so if it's utter shit, I apologise and just let me know and I shall fix it. And I'm pretty sure each chapter gets longer oh my  
> (ps. I am sorry I am a horrible person who does not stuck to deadlines because the world of Sterek fanfiction exists and sucks me in)
> 
> note: there is a reference to alcohol abuse/alcoholism so if you wanna know more about it, check the end note :3
> 
> This chapter is in the present time of this story and focuses basically primarily on Peter and not Stiles and Derek. But we'll be back to our regular schedule of Stiles and Derek story time in the next (and final) chapter of this story.

When Derek and Peter finally make their way to the beach, the small get together is well underway. Stiles is playing baseball with his dad when the two Hale men arrive, hands holding the bat in a white knuckle grip, knees slightly wobbly in his batter's stance. Sheriff aims the ball and pitches it at Stiles. He swings out and bunts the ball away, dropping his bat afterwards and runs around the makeshift diamond they have set up.

The Sheriff is making crowd noises for Stiles’ hit when Peter walks up to him and claps a hand on his shoulder in greeting. Turning, Sheriff sees Peter and a grin breaks across his face and brings him in for a hug.

“Good to see you man!” Sheriff says, clapping his hands on Peter’s back before breaking away from the hug and holding him at arm's length. “I’m glad you and Derek could make it. Where is he anyway?”

Peter points towards the tree line surrounding the portion of the beach they’re on, towards where Stiles is talking to Derek in the sand. Sheriff nods his head in understand and calls out, “Stiles, come over here. It’s not fair to keep Derek to yourself, you know.” 

You can clearly see Stiles roll his eyes at his father but, nevertheless, he leaves his spot near the trees and brings Derek with him, bring him to the others gathered around the fire.

“Hey Derek, how are you?” Sheriff asks the boy, hand held out for a high five. Derek follows through, clapping his hand with the older man’s and responds. 

“I’m good, sir. How are you?”

“Always the polite kid, Derek. You could teach that one there,” He nods his head in Stiles’ direction who just rolls his eyes again. “A thing or two about manners. Stiles, go take him to say hello to everyone, will you?” With that dismissal, Sheriff runs his hands over Derek’s hair messily and pushes them away, Peter following them on their way.

Mrs. McCall’s son, Scott, intercepts them on their way to the sitting logs around the fire, introducing herself to Derek and his uncle.

“Hi, I’m Melissa,” She states cheerfully. Holding her hand out for Peter she continues. “I’m glad you could make it, Sheriff didn’t know if you would come.” Peter shakes her hand quickly, looking jittery and like he is almost afraid to be around this many people. Melissa then turns to Derek, an even brighter smile on her face. “And you must be Derek! It’s amazing to finally meet you, you’re the only person Stiles ever talks about.”

“Melissa, stop.” Stiles groans in annoyance at the woman’s words while Derek smiles. “You’re embarrassing me. We’re leaving.” Grabbing Derek’s wrist, Stiles pulls him towards the fire pit, through it truthfully, and to the trees. On there way, some boy with a crooked jaw smiles at Stiles and Derek, ruffling both of their hair as they pass him.

“Hey, Stiles. Hey, Stiles’ friend.”

Stiles answers with a “Hey, Scott.” while Derek gives the boy a small wave as he continues to be pulled towards the trees by his friend.

Peter was still standing in the same spot with Melissa, hands wringing each other as a way to expel the nervous energy and anxiety he had running below the surface of his skin. There’s a hand being clapped down on his shoulder, making him jump and stare at whoever it was with wide eyes.

Scott is standing next to Peter, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding a cold beer that is being offered to him.

“Want a drink?” Scott asks, a smile on his face that is most likely meant to be reassuring and calming but, to Peter, is not at all.

“Thanks.” He says as he takes the beer and talks a long pull from it, already calming down just from holding the condensing glass bottle. Sitting down in a chair, Peter continues to glance jerkingly around at the people gathered on the beach, not knowing anyone as much as he knows the Sheriff. But, the Sheriff was good people and if he knew everyone here, enjoyed talking to everyone here, they had to be good people too.

The first time Peter met the Sheriff, it was also the last time he saw his sister and her family. Talia and Logan had taken Laura and Cora out just because they were those type of parents and they could. Derek, who was at the age where he thought girls were yucky (even his own sisters) opted to stay home with Peter and play space pirates with his “favourite uncle” and eat all the things his parents wouldn’t typically allow him to. And that day was just as much fun for Peter as it was for Derek.

They ran around the house in superhero capes made out of bed sheets, built pillow forts in the den to watch  _ Hercules _ over and over again. They ate their dessert before their dinner and drank so much juice they had to go to the store twice to get more. So when the Sheriff knocked on the door later that night, late enough that Talia and everyone should have been home for hours by now, Peter knew. And one look at his face, Sheriff knew that Peter knew, whispering a soft “I’m sorry” before walking in and helping Peter get Derek ready so they could make their way down to the station, and later the hospital, so he can identify the bodies of his family.

Peter’s life changed so much that night, none for the better and all for the worst. In one day, he went from being the cool uncle, the one his niece and nephew went to when they wanted something their parents wouldn’t buy them or when they wanted to be told a cool story about something completely random,surrounded by an family with never ending love and happiness and pure joy to losing every family member he held dear except a three year old toddler who is now his charge and, a plethora of insurance documents to sign and wills to read through.

It was also the day he found his saving grace at the bottom of a bottle of bourbon, the only thing he’s found in the past five years that has managed to numb the phantom pain in his heart from losing the people that matter to him the most. He found comfort in the burn of his throat as he listened to Derek cry out night after night for his mom and dad, for Laura or Cora, for anyone but Peter. And he knew he wasn’t doing the best with Derek, that he could have done a thousand times better than what he currently was but, he either didn’t care or didn’t want to try. Everything was gone, was lost, so what was the point in trying?

Peter hasn’t really seen anyone in town since everyone died five years ago so it’s something new, something weird. The beer in his hand is almost empty, having unconsciously drinking from it continuously since it was handed to him. He rolled it in between his palms, feeling the condensation wet his hands and make them slick. He cast his eyes around the group of people congregated near the fire. The Sheriff — John. He told him to call him John all those years ago — is near of cooler that’s filled to the brim with food, pulling out different meats for the grill. Standing near him is Melissa, the nurse from the local hospital. He remembers her, she took care of Derek for him when he had to go to the morgue to identify his family, something that still hurts him to think about to this day and something a three year old should never have to witness. He had been grateful for her presence then and he still is now.

Melissa has a son, Scott, a tall boy with soft and happy eyes and an uneven jaw who looks like he can pass for sixteen no matter his true age. He’s talking to a girl he doesn’t know but whose eyes are as bright as the stars in the sky on a clear night. They look happy, they all look happy, something Peter wishes he still had the capacity to do as well.

He misses the feeling of being happy, of being overjoyed and ecstatic by life in general. He misses being untainted and pure.

He catches sight of Derek with Stiles, both of the boys laughing full and loud and unabashedly. Stiles puts his arm around Derek’s waist, pulling him closer to him as they walk in tandem further into the bushes and trees on the beach, searching for something to do. Attached at the hip, as per usual with the two of them. Doing something only if the other was 100% on board as well.

Stiles and Derek are inseparable, always have been from the moment Stiles saw Derek, small and alone and sobbing, in the car of his dad’s office, huddled into himself as if he were scared of the air surrounding him. He ended up in the seat right next to Derek, knees tucked into his chest and his arms around his legs. He kept cutting quick, wide eyed, glances at Derek, seeming wary but determined, two common emotions for the child. He took one more deep breath, looked Derek right in the eye and asked, “Do you like Spider-Man?”

And Derek was terrified of this little boy who he didn’t even realise was next to him until the moment he spoke. Wide-eyed, he stared at Stiles who stared back, waiting for an answer to his question. But gradually, he nodded, causing Stiles’ proverbial word dam to burst and questions to flow out of his mouth in a stream. 

They stayed like that for hours, Stiles throwing question after question to Derek and Derek replying as quietly and monosyllabic as possible in the moment. Sometimes, he would even ask Stiles a question in return, causing the little boy to smile so bright it rivaled the sun.

When Peter went to go collect Derek later on that day, he found both of the boys on the bench in front of the Sheriff’s office, cuddled up together under a blanket, faces slack in sleep and breathing simultaneously through their noses and mouths as only kids can do. And Peter just stared, not wanting to interrupt the picture of contentment and tranquility by moving and waking Derek. That’s where the Sheriff found him ten minutes later as well, looking down on his nephew and his new friend, a small smile on his face.

“They sure are cute when they’re this age,” John said, a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he stared at the boys as well. He smiled down at his sun, love clear and bright in his eyes. “Now if only they could stay like this, you know?” He looked at Peter then. And by just looking at the man, Peter knew that he would always have a friend in him, even if he didn’t take advantage of it. So Peter nodded and said “Yeah, it’ll probably only go downhill from here. Once they aren’t cute little babies anymore.”

Peter wasn’t wrong that night when he told John everything would go downhill. Because it had. Nothing was as it should be. Peter himself was drunk more times than he was sober, barely in his right mind to keep track of the days. Derek found refuge at John’s house with Stiles instead of his own house and Peter didn’t even truly care. But Derek was always there when he needed him the absolute most, even if he didn’t know it himself.

Derek was always there when Peter needed him to pull all the bottles away from his reach, when he needed him to remind him of the good that once was so he can be okay, even if it is only for a short amount of time before he reaches for a bottle again. Derek was his rock, and he would forever be grateful for his nephew and everything he’s done for him.

Someone clears their voice behind Peter’s head, causing him to jump slightly and look around with wide eyes. Melissa is standing behind him, a timid smile on her face and two beers in her hands. She holds one out for him to take, causing him to notice that his first bottle is completely empty and just hanging loosely between his fingers. Smiling up at her, he drops the empty glass bottle and grabs the one she has out to him, glupping about half of the bottle down in a few seconds.

“You enjoying yourself so far?” Melissa asks, taking the seat next to him and taking a casual pull from her beer.

“Yeah, I am.” Peter looks around once more and sees John on the grill poking at the steaks to see if they’re done. “I haven’t been around anyone in a while. It’s nice to get out, to see everyone again.” 

Melissa hummed in acknowledgement and takes another swig of her beer. “It’s good to have you back, Peter. We worry about you, you know. About you and Derek. After you guys lost Talia it’s like you just caved in on yourselves.”

“We’ve gotten by,” Peter starts, eyes going searching for Derek with Stiles. “Derek has Stiles, he has an anchor. And I have him. We’re okay.”

“Good. That’s all we want.” Melissa takes one more drink from her beer and stands up then, holding her hand out in front of Peter. “Now, stop sitting over here by yourself looking like a Debby Downer and socialise. Mingle. Have fun.” Peter looks from her hand to her face, swallows the last swig of beer, and puts his hand in hers.

A bright smile breaks across her face and Peter instantly sees where Scott gets his charm from. She pulls him over to where John is manning the grill and they talk about things that normal adults talk about; their kids and their jobs and can you believe how much gas is right now? It’s ridiculous.

And the day continues on like that, idle conversation mixed in with short glances of Derek and Stiles being Derek and Stiles and more beers than he can count in his system. It goes to shit pretty fast after that however.

Everyone was back around the fire, individual conversations melding together to create an indecipherable cacophony of noise. Peter was back by himself, beer bottle who knows in his hand when he turns to Scott to start a conversation.

“Scott,” he begins, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. Scott turns to look at Peter, a surprised look on his face at the contact. “How have you been son? I haven’t seen you since that day in the hospital when my family died.”

Scott looks shocked at Peter’s brashness but chuckles nervously in response. “Uh, yeah that seems about right.” He looks over to the girl sitting next to him, almost like he was asking for help. “But, uh, yeah no, I’ve been good. Been working, going to school, the usual. How have you been Peter? We haven’t seen you around town in a while.”

Peter chuckles and knocks back some more of his beer. “Well Scott, I’ve been as good as I can be. Getting by.” Peter actually looks at Scott this time. Despite it being five years since he last actually looked at the boy, he looks exactly the same. More laugh lines around his mouth, hair a little shaggier, but the exact same nevertheless. Peter puts a hand up to Scott’s hair, pushing it around. “You look exactly the same, you know that? Nothing about you has changed much. Got a little taller, that’s really about it.” Scott tries to move away from Peter’s hand in his hair but he won’t let up. He just continues talking and pushing Scott’s face and hair and Scott keeps trying to move away from him.

John’s hand comes up the text time Peter makes a move for Scott, catching his wrist and throwing his arm away. “Peter. You need to stop.” He has his sheriff voice on, something Peter hasn’t heard in years and for some reason, the appearance of it pisses him off. Maybe it’s the infinite amount of beers he’s had or the feeling of being surrounded by so many people, but Peter reacts before thinking properly and starts shouting.

“Fuck off, John. I’m not doing anything.” Peter scoffs at the look of disbelief and  _ office _ John is giving him right now. “No need to get all sheriffy on us.” Peter picks up a new beer, opens it quickly and drinks. When he goes to take another sip, someone tries to take the bottle from him  but Peter smacks their hand away.

“Peter. Put the bottle down. You’ve had enough to drink.” It’s John again and his  _ no bullshit, I am the police _ voice. And fuck that, no one tells Peter he’s had enough to drink, something he promptly lets everyone know.

“There’s no such thing as “too much to drink”, John. Leave me alone.” Peter goes to sit back with his beer but someone stops him and yanks him back to his feet. Using the element of surprise they awarded themselves, they take the bottle from Peter’s hands. “Peter. No. More.” He makes a move to get his bottle back, all the while swaying slightly at his feet, drunker than he expected to be. He tries again to get the beer but this time he’s stopped by tiny hands pushing into his stomach, pushing him away from John.

“Stop!” It’s Derek pushing Peter away from John, from his beer, from everyone. “Just stop! Leave it alone, please!” Shocked by the pure desperation in Derek’s voice, Peter stops fighting and looks down at the tiny fists beating into his stomach, looks up and sees the look of disappointment and sadness etched into John’s face, the concern in Stiles’. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was supposed to be a good day for the both of them, not end horribly in embarrassment and tears.

Peter grabs a hold of Derek’s hands, stopping him from beating into his stomach again and says quietly “Let’s go home. I think we should just...go home.”

Derek looks up at Peter, a look of utter defeat on his face and says “Okay. Home.” He turns around, waves goodbye to Stiles and his dad and pulls Peter away from the beach, towards their car. Towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ Peter begins drinking when he finds out that his sister and her family, minus Derek, have died in a car accident. It starts gradually at first, with a few drinks with dinner each night but then it escalates to constant drinking all day every day, resulting in him being twitchy and full of anxiety unless he has alcohol in his system or presence. Derek has learned to adapt and knows how to act around his uncle when he is drinking certain things and no one else truly knows how bad his drinking is. He gets super rowdy and angry throughout the get together with everyone and almost starts swinging and punching but Derek comes and calms him down relatively and takes him away._
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and Kudos and Subscriptions are always encouraged and welcome please don't be afraid.  
> twitter: @mythoesoul  
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	4. you're driving me wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why this took me so long to update. i know i was in like a constant state of half-written with it but im not too sure how two months managed to pass. but, here it finally is.
> 
> enjoy.

Stiles loves the beach. It’s one of his favourite places in the whole entire world. The sound of the water hitting the shore, calm and consistent, the smell of the salt in the air and the heat of the sun on his face, the feeling of too hot sand beneath his feet. It was just perfect for Stiles.

Being there with Derek, however, made the beach better in every possible way. With Derek by his side, he got to share the quietness as they listened to the water lapping at the shore and the exhilaration of running through the sand fast enough to not burn your feet but slow enough to still feel the heat. Derek made all of his favourite things better.

The two boys had left the adults to themselves, venturing farther into the brush and trees littering the beach in search of their own adventure. 

Stiles pulled Derek in every direction any time something remotely interesting caught his eye, turning around and laughing at the other boy when he grumbles his annoyance at Stiles’ endless energy, no matter how contagious it is. 

They’re still meandering through the branches and sand, picking up random objects and messing with them when Stiles comes to a stop, eyes bugging out of his head as he stare at whatever it is he’s found on the ground. 

“What is it,” Derek asks, trying his best to peek over Stiles’ shoulder to look. “What did you find?”

Stiles doesn’t answer him, instead he bends over to pick up the...thing. “This is so cool.” Stiles muses, eyes glued to the squid in his hands.

“Is that a squid?” Derek asks, eyes going almost as big as Stiles’ in that moment. “That’s a squid.” He muses. “You’re holding a squid.” 

Stiles turns to him, eyes still huge, but this time with excitement and joy instead of wonder, a huge grin splitting his face in half. “I know! Isn’t it cool, Derek?” He changes his grip on the squid and pushes it into Derek’s face. “Look at it Der! It’s so cooooolll.” He drags out the word as he wiggles the fish in his face.”

“Ew, Stiles! Get that thing out of my face!” Stiles laughs and and shakes the squid in his face some more, causing Derek to push Stiles away and run, Stiles following instantly, squid still in hand. 

“No way Derek! You’re gonna love this squid.” 

Stiles chased him around and around, their laughter filling the air as Derek bobbed and weaved out of Stiles’ grasp just barely each and every time before, finally, grabbing the back of Derek’s shirt and pulling him towards him, causing the two boys to topple to the ground, breathless with sore faces from laughing the whole time.

“Are you going to say hi to Mr. Squiddy now, Derek?”

“Is that what it’s going to take for you to let me get up? He asks, chuckling at Stiles’ enthusiastic head nodding. “And Mr. Squiddy? Really, Stiles?”

“Don’t judge, you’ll offend him.” Stiles shifts his weight, propping himself on his elbow so the squid, Mr. Squiddy, is in Derek’s face. “Now, say hi.”

Derek rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness that is his best friend and turns to look at the squid. “Hello Mr. ...Squiddy.”

A huge smile crosses Stiles’ face. “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He rolls off of his elbow so he can sit up, pulling Derek up with him and off to their next destination. 

*

They're walking along the beach, kicking sand at each other and just enjoying themselves in only the way kids can when they first hear the yelling. The voices rising with each step they take towards where their families were. Looking at each other, eyes wide open with fear, the take off running back towards the noise.

 

***

 

Stiles is in his room pacing back and forward, restless energy forcing him to move around and do  _ something _ besides just sit there.

He wants to see Derek, is what he absolutely and truly wants. But his dad, he says that he can’t see him,  _ “Not today Stiles, maybe tomorrow.” _ he says. He’s been saying that for a week now and tomorrow hasn’t come around yet and he doubts it will anytime soon. He just misses his best friend. 

He misses running around the boats and scraps in his backyard, playing hide and seek amongst the wreckage. He misses Derek laughing at every single one of Stiles’ jokes, no matter how stupid they are or how many times he’s heard them before. He misses playing video games in Derek’s room, doing his best to make Derek lose at every game against him and he just misses Derek.

He groans loudly, stopping his pacing to toss himself on his bed face first to groan louder into his pillow. 

Stiles hears a knock on the wood frame of his door. He turns his head so he’s no longer suffocating himself with his pillow to look at his dad who has a knowing look on his face. 

“What’s wrong, kid?” he asks, walking into Stiles’ room and sitting on the bed. He pats his calf, signalling him to sit up so they can have coherent conversation that isn’t muffled by a pillow. 

Stiles turns around and sits with his back against his pillows, knees drawn up to his chest. 

“I miss Derek.” he says, voice small as he pulls his legs closer to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. “I just don’t understand why I can’t go see him, Dad.” 

John gave his son a small, sad smile at his words. He knew Stiles missed his best friend, those two were attached at the hip, so inseparable it was ridiculous. But ever since the beach, John was worried. Worried about Peter and worried about Derek living with Peter and worried about Stiles being over there with Peter. 

But he also knows keeping his son away from Derek is the worst thing he could possibly do. Stiles hasn’t been this sad and downtrodden since his mother, when he was too young to completely understand what was happening. John hated seeing his kid like this, especially since he was the one to cause this reaction and attitude. 

“I know you miss him, kid. And I’m sorry I won’t let you go see him. Maybe tomorrow.”

Stiles groaned in annoyance the moment the words left his mouth. He was tired of hearing his dad tell him tomorrow over and over again and it not being true. “Dad,” he started, staring at his father like he can’t believe he is still trying to tell him the same line over and over again. “You’ve been telling me _ tomorrow _ for about a week now and tomorrow hasn’t happened yet. Why won’t you let me see Derek?” 

The look on Stiles’ face is one of pure and utter pleading, pleading with his dad to tell him the truth, to let him see his friend, to let him be happy again.

It breaks John’s heart, knowing he is the cause of his own child’s distress, all because he’s scared.

And he has every right to be scared, coming face to face with the unpredictability of a drunken Peter Hale. The moment Peter lost it at the barbeque, John thought about any moment he could have done something to Stiles when he wasn’t around to interfere. Even if he knows, in the back of his mind, Peter would never do anything to Stiles just as he knows he would never lay a finger on Derek, some irrationally rational part of John’s brain made him wary. 

And it’s the same part of his brain that is telling him that he should keep Stiles away from Derek, and by default, Peter, just a tad bit longer, no matter how much he ends up hating him for it. But he doesn’t want Stiles hating him, no matter for how short of a time.

“You can go see him this weekend. I’ll call Peter tomorrow, make sure it’s okay. How’s that sound, kiddo?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Stiles was up and throwing his arms around the older man’s neck, a huge smile splitting his face.

“Thank you dad!” Stiles pulls away quickly, a flutter of motion as he talks about all the things he’s going to tell Derek in the time they’ve been apart and how he can’t wait to see his best friend again after so long.

 

***

 

The moment John stops the car in front of Peter Hale’s house, Stiles is running from the car into Derek’s outstretched arms.

“Derek!” Stiles screams as he runs, crashing into the other boy with such force they topple over and fall into the grass, never letting go of the other in the process. Stiles shoves his face into the space between Derek’s neck and shoulder, nuzzling into the space to comfort himself. 

“I’ve missed you.” he whispers, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Derek, knowing Stiles was about to cry, pulled the other boy closer in his arms, grip tightening around his waist. 

“I missed you too.” Derek whispered back, petting at Stiles’ hair so he wouldn’t actually cry. Giving Stiles one last squeeze, Derek pulls away to look him in the eyes. “Wanna play some video games?” he asks.

Stiles instantly perked up at the mention of games, eyes widening and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” He gets to his feet, pulling Derek with him. “Let’s go!”

The two boys run into the house, leaving John and Peter by themselves outside to watch them, both with amused looks on their faces.

Peter turns towards John as he begins to make his way back towards his cruiser. 

“Thanks for letting Stiles come over.” He begins. “Derek hasn’t shut up about him all week. HE’s really missed him.”

John looks up at Peter when he begins to talk. “It’s no big thing really. Stiles has been talking my ear off about seeing Derek so I finally caved in. Couldn’t take it anymore.” He runs his hands over his face and through his hair, a chuckle making its way out of his throat. “Those two are gonna be trouble when they get older, as attached as they are now.” Peter laughs and nods his head in agreement. With Stiles’ inability to stay out of trouble and Derek’s need to help Stiles, and sometimes impress him, those two would be getting into heaps of trouble the older they got. Peter could just imagine how familiar he’s going to get with the principal's office at the middle and high school when the time comes.

“With how close they are, I wouldn’t even be surprised if they ended up dating one day.” John continued, causing Peter to jerk his head in his direction and gape. “With the way they are now, it really wouldn’t be a surprise.” 

Peter said nothing. Couldn’t say anything, in fact, as he didn’t know how to react to those words. Yeah, Derek loved Stiles. They were kids, it’s what they do. But, he couldn’t love the other boy in that way one day. He couldn’t, Peter couldn’t let him. 

“Well, I’m going to go Pete,” John says, bring Peter’s attention back to him. “Tell Stiles to call me when he’s ready to come home.” 

Peter nods in confirmation, thoughts still miles away in what-ifs and maybes.

 

***

 

Stiles and Derek are huddled under the duvet on Derek’s bed, flashlight shining bright under the white cover. Stiles laying with his head in Derek’s lap, hands idly running up and down the other boy’s arm. Derek is propped up with his back against the wall, hands running through Stiles’ hair. 

“Your hair is really soft.” Derek murmurs. It feels like the feathers of a newborn chick, fluffy and downy soft.

Stiles hummed in acknowledgment to Derek’s words, slowly being lulled into a state of sleep because of Derek’s fingers. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Only if you keep doing what you’re doing which you should so keep doing what you’re doing.” 

Derek chuckled at his best friend and removed his hands, laughing even more at the noise of protest Stiles gave. 

“Why’d you stop?” He’s pouting now, upset.

“Because you were gonna fall asleep. Don’t do that.”

“Ugh, fine.” Stiles pulls himself up from Derek’s lap and faces him. For a while they just sit in silence and look at each other, taking comfort that the other person is, in fact, there after being apart for a week.

Stiles is the first one to break the silence. Grabbing a hold of Derek’s hand, he begins to play with his fingers before talks. 

“I’ve missed you this past week. Like, it was the worst week of my life, being away from you for that long.” Stiles looked up at Derek through his lashes before he finished talking. “I mean, obviously we’ve gone days without seeing each other and stuff. Like that time I went camping with my mom and dad, I didn’t see you for like three days. But this. This was worse, somehow. I didn’t like it.”

“Me neither.” Derek said softly. “Worst week of my life. I think Uncle Peter was gonna make me sleep outside if I asked to see you one more time.” Derek snatched his hand back from Stiles, making the other boy look up at him in shock. Holding his pinky up in the air, Derek says, “Promise that won’t happen again? I don’t care what we have to do to make your dad and my uncle cave, let’s make sure we never go that long without seeing each other again. I need my best friend.” 

Stiles looks from Derek to his pinky, a smile on his face. He hooks his pinky around Derek’s and squeezes. “Promise. I need my best friend too. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

With smiles on their faces, both boys lean forward, placing kisses on their hands and shaking their hands up and down, locking in their promise.

Once they release each others fingers, Stiles begins to move, shifting himself until he’s on his back with his head back in Derek’s lap. Grabbing the other boys hand again, he resumes fiddling with his fingers.

“Derek, can you make me a promise?” Stiles voice is softer than it was a few minutes ago, causing Derek to look at him with a bit of worry etched on his face.

“Of course. Anything. What is it?”

“Can you promise me that we’ll always try and stay friends? Even when we get older and you don’t have time for me because you’ll be all popular surrounded by friends, can you promise me you won’t forget me completely?” 

“Okay one, Stiles, you need to calm down with your daydreams because none of that is ever going to happen. But, I promise I won’t forget you completely. I won’t forget you at all. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good. I love you, Derek. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you too, Stiles. And you’re mine.”

 

***

 

_ Derek began to pull away from Stiles’ embrace, moving his arms from around the boy and going to hold his hands in his. Stiles looks at him and waits, knowing that Derek is going to say something and not wanting to rush him in any way.  _

_ Derek looks down at their connected hands and then back up to Stiles’ face, directly into his eyes. He takes a deep breath and begins talking, hands gripping the other boy’s tighter and tighter with each word. _

_ “Stiles, I-” Derek takes another deep breath, grounding himself before he continues to talk. “I love you. I love you so, so much.” Stiles’ breath hitched at those words, words he never got tired of hearing, no matter how many times Derek told him. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you have been for a while. Before I even knew.” He brings Stiles’ hands to his mouth and rest his lips against his knuckles in something resembling a kiss, a soft brush of lips on skin.  _

_ “You make my life better. You make  _ me _ better. You make me realise that I deserve more than a drunk uncle who lives in the backwoods of a small ass town where people are too nosy for their own good. You make me dream of a future with you, of happiness with you, of just having you in my life and being completely okay with nothing more. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.  _

_ “I don’t know what I would do without you. You have always been there for me for as long as I can remember and I am so grateful for that. You’re my rock, my anchor when life begins to become too much and I feel like I’m going to lose myself somehow. You are my sun, my stars, and my moon, Stiles.” _

_ Derek drops Stiles’ hands and runs his hands over his face and hair, pulling at the strands slightly, causing them to stick up in random peaks on his head. “I guess, Stiles, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I am in love with you. You’re my world, the only one I want, the only one I need. And I’d love to be yours for as long as you’d have me.” Derek looks at Stiles, eyes shining with love and a few unshed tears.  _

_ Heart beating faster than it has in a very long time, Stiles leans forward and presses his lips to Derek’s with the slightest amount of pressure before pressing their lips together more. Stiles tried to pour everything he wanted to say but couldn’t — he couldn’t possibly find enough words to tell Derek about every ounce of love he felt flow through him whenever he looked him in those ridiculous eyes of his or how natural and normal and  _ right _ it felt to picture his future and have Derek standing right next to him through every second of it.  _

_ He tried to tell Derek how much he loved him, that he was the sole reason his heart was still beating and he was still breathing through each day. He tried to make this kiss an extension of him, of his emotions, of his need to have Derek in his life.  _

_ Stiles pulls away from Derek slowly, lips still ghosting over one another as they pant for breath, foreheads pressed together. Eyes closed, he trailed his fingers up Derek’s arms, goosebumps rising in his wake. His hands continued to rise, going from the other boy’s arms, to his shoulders, before making their way to his neck and resting there. He let’s his fingers rest upon the side of Derek’s throat where his pulse is and just feels. He opens his eyes to see Derek watching him, mouth opened in the slightest ‘o’ shape and pupils blown out so completely you can barely see any of his irises, the beautiful hazel colour overtaken by black. _

_ Still staring into his eyes, Stiles moves his hands back down to Derek’s and threads their fingers together, pulling Derek as close to him as he possible could. “I love you, Derek. I am so, ridiculously and utterly in love with you.” _

  
  
**_to be continued.._** **.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part one of three: done.
> 
> I am not exactly sure when part two will be up. probably not for a while. this series' muse has been drained so far so stuff in this universe will take a while to get back.
> 
> I am still writing though so be on the look out for some serious 5+1 sterk crack coming from this account soon.
> 
> If you want to chat, hit me up on [tumblr](mythoesoul.tumblr.com) i love talking to people so please please don't be shy. i love you guys and thank you for reading this story. I'll be back soon..

**Author's Note:**

> sooo....whatcha think??? don't be afraid to comment or subscribe or give kudos or anything of the like. it really means a lot to me and like it'll seriously motivate me, let me tell you. 
> 
> thanks for read, it means a lot. xx


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